


Kanaya: Commit

by bench



Series: Kanaya: Make it Happen [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Kanaya is nervous and Rose is in charge, Light Bondage, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 02:08:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bench/pseuds/bench
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose is an unknowable spot of light in space, entirely unpredictable. It is what draws you to her and what scares you the most. You are not a troll prone to fits of nerves, but who wouldn't be anxious when faced with such desirable unpredictability?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to and beta'd by my dear [dandy-pants](http://dandy-pants.tumblr.com). I'm sorry it took so damn long.
> 
> Flagged as underage because ages aren't specified but they are probably under eighteen.

You are not, generally speaking, a troll prone to fits of nerves. You may not always be fully confident of your actions, but you do not allow such minor insecurities to prevent you from taking the path that you think is best. You are a woman of action. 

Unfortunately Rose has a tendency towards throwing thorns into the path before you, particularly when you want to be at your most assured. You suspect that this might be an unfortunate side effect of love. 

Rose is an unknowable spot of light in space, entirely unpredictable. It is what draws you to her and what scares you the most. You are not a troll prone to fits of nerves, but who wouldn't be anxious when faced with such desirable unpredictability? 

You can't catch a beam of light in a net, regardless of the fiber you use. The same ability to See that makes her powerful and makes her stand out also makes her stand apart. You can't help but pity her for how she pushes the others away to create a space between the things she sees and the people she cares about. But it isn't a space she forces with you. It is impossible for you to know what it is that sets you apart from the rest in her eyes. All you can do is take advantage of the acceptance she extends towards you that allows you to be with her when she locks everyone else out and touch her in ways that no one else can. 

Rose has never made a confession or love or pity in as many words, but you can hear them in the things she does. She stands stock still and entirely uncomplaining while you take up hems, a smile playing across her face as you struggle to measure just so. When you find yourself overwhelmed by the endless darkness of the winding hallways she brings you tea just the way you like it and holds you until you are ready to regain your poise. She wraps her arms around you and reads her stories of eldritch horrors aloud by the glowing light of your skin. She Alchemizes any Earth plants she can recall and surprises you with them in your greenhouse. She smiles when you call her 'matesprit.' 

Pity and love are not words that you know how to say aloud either. You endeavor to show them through your actions as she does, and you are certain that you succeed. You hardly claim to be as romantically inclined as certain members of your team, but that does not mean that your grasp of romance is insufficient. You have been together for some time. You watched Rose through the viewport long before you met in person. You know that she is trustworthy and dependable and that you pity her more than you had ever believed possible. You know that you have shown her your feelings through your actions, but you want to make sure. You want to show her in the grandest way you know how. 

You stand outside of her block with your bloodpusher in your throat. You are not prone to fits of nerves, but you are afraid you may give into them now. The bag you have slung over your shoulder feels as though it is growing heavy enough to drag you though the floor beneath you. You almost wish it would. 

There are few trolls who would agree to what you are about to propose. Your culture is militant and weakness of any kind can be a cullable offense. Even most matesprits can only trust each other to a point no matter how much pity they feel, and that point is well behind the line that you want to cross. But it is a trust that you feel and you want her to know. You can only hope that she feels the same. 

You aren't sure how long you have been standing with your fist poised to knock on the door to Rose's block before it swings open, apparently of its own accord. You are still frozen, but this time out of surprise rather than uncertainty. 

"Kanaya, you can come in." 

Her voice startles you such that you very nearly collide with the door as you jerk into action. The combination of nerves and surprise has rendered you far from your normally poised self. You can faintly hear her stifled laughter as you maneuver yourself through the door and you know that she Saw your moment of inelegance. You grit your teeth and continue through entryway into her leisure block. She is knitting what looks to you like the beginnings of a pair of socks with soft music playing in the background. She has the faraway expression on her face that only appears when she has been pondering the future and it makes you more uncertain than ever. 

You know that Rose goes out of her way to avoid seeing anything to do with your relationship, because it is "one of those situations where the more you know the worse off you are." She has told you before that her ability to See threads of the future can lead to a certain degree of over-analysis. You understand how this could lead to complications in interpersonal situations, particularly those of a romantic bent. You are confident that she does not know what you have come here to propose which is a comfort, but a long session pondering your inevitable battles does not leave one in an amorous mood. 

However, despite any misgivings you have she is still quite obviously happy to see you. She sets her knitting into a basket at her feet and rises smoothly. Putting her hands on your shoulders and rising onto her toes, she presses a chaste kiss to your lips. You can tell that you are glowing slightly brighter. She settles back into her chair and waves you at one across from it. 

"So what brings you to my humble hive this fine evening?" 

You can see her eyeing the bag you have now set to the side of your chair with ill-concealed hunger. Rose is nothing if not insatiably curious. Back when you were still figuring out how to alchemize basic necessities you would bring whatever treasure you had most recently created in the same bag you have with you now. The vision of Rose dancing around the block after you finally made a proper toothbrush is one of your more treasured memories. 

Even though you know that Rose is no doubt burning with the desire to know what you brought, you aren't quite ready to broach the subject and you know she won't mention it unprompted. You are going to wait and you know that Rose will be content with that. Instead you fall into easy conversation. You had thought, before you arrived, that being in her presence would only serve to escalate your nerves. You can see now that you were being foolish. You never feel more confident in your feelings for her and hers for you then when you are together in this way. There is no pressure to impress and no reason to try to be someone you are not. You feel entirely comfortable and assured. 

After a few minutes you nudge the bag lightly with your toe. She falls silent mid-sentence. 

"Rose I would like to ask a… I would like to make a proposition of you." 

"Oh?" 

"Yes. I am, of course, well aware that there are many facets of human and troll culture that are somewhat at odds with one another and I very much hope that this is not one of these, or perhaps I do, is difficult to predict exactly how the two value systems will deviate from subject to subject, because in the culture with which I was raised there are certain actions that one might take under the proper circumstances that are generally considered to be-" 

"Kanaya." 

You were rambling. How unusual. 

"I believe that you are stalling and I am honestly not entirely sure what to make of it. I am, above all, assured of my multicultural open-mindedness, there is nothing for you to worry about on that front. So please just spit it out." 

You can feel a flush rising in your cheeks and hope that it doesn’t make you too green. Your color shows much more with your skin white instead of grey. 

"Yes, of course. In that case I think it best that I just show you, as it appears that I will not be able to actually speak my query. Can we please go back to your respite block - bedroom?" 

Her expression doesn’t show the slightest hint of surprise. She takes your hand and leads you out of the recreation block, closing the door behind you. You walk to her respite platform and somehow manage to keep from flinging yourself across it in a fit of frustration. You had really envisioned this entire conversation going much more smoothly than it has proceeded thus far. However, despite your less than perfect progress, the fact remains that the absolute worst that she can say is no and then you will pretend the whole affair never happened and move on with your life. It's not like you've never been disappointed before, and you recovered then just as you will now. So instead of flopping down you sit delicately on the edge of the platform and set the bag at your side. Rose faces you with a blandly curious expression on her face. 

You stare at each other for a long moment that would be awkward with anyone else. But of course it isn't awkward, this is Rose. You should just get it over with, this is stupid, you are being absurd. You pry open the drawstring mouth of the bag and dump its contents unceremoniously onto the platform. Apparently whatever Rose was expecting it wasn't this and her eyebrows disappear into her fringe in surprise. She shoots you a questioning, but not alarmed glance and nods at the small pile. You nod in return. 

She stalks over to the platform where she carefully eyes what you have brought, reaching towards them with a vaguely puzzled expression. You have never been so embarrassed in your short life, blushing so hard that you are surprised your glow isn't tinted green. You finally give into the temptation that you have been trying to suppress all this time and sag back onto the platform. For good measure you grab a respite cushion and press it over your face. Now you can't tell what she is doing, but you can still hear as she (you assume) makes neat little coils of the ropes of various fibers and clinks metal together as she moves cuffs around. You weren't sure what to bring and this isn't exactly your area, so you just brought whatever you could think of. And it is too much. She is going to say no and be offended and send you away and you are the stupidest troll to ever grace the multiverse, it is you. Why did you think this was a good idea, how could you be so much of an idiot? 

"Kanaya, for goodness' sake is that it? Oh my Gods, with the way you have been acting I thought this was going to be some sort of exceedingly uncomfortable and trying alien ordeal to determine matesprit commitment or something like that! Of course we can try bondage if you want to; why on earth are you acting like I'm about to break up with you?" 

You remove the respite cushion from your face to shove it under your head instead. A lot of your embarrassment has been replaced by confusion. 

"It… isn't some sort of exceedingly trying and uncomfortable alien thing?" 

"Of course not! Experimentation is a normal and even healthy part of any committed romantic relationship. And frankly as far as kinks go this is really quite vanilla. Obviously I don't want to be diving onto the Saint Andrew's Cross on our first foray into bondage, but honestly if the most adventurous equipment you brought is a pair of handcuffs I don't think we are going to have a problem." 

"Diving onto the… what? What?" 

This is probably what going mad feels like. There is absolutely nobody who would (should?) be this blasé about one of the most kinky and deviant sexual acts that you have ever heard of. But if her implications are correct and this - you still can't even say it to yourself - is perfectly normal in human relationships… you feel somewhat lightheaded. 

"I can see from your expression that this sort of experimentation is not part of a normal Alternian relationship." 

You actually laugh at that, albeit weakly. "No. It's… well you know what trolls are like. Aggressive and a constant danger to everyone around us. Putting yourself at someone's mercy in this way is… nearly unheard of. It is reserved for the most trusting and loving of matespritships and the most unhealthy and one sided of caliginous relationships. I never would have thought…" 

You trail off thoughtfully. You are thoroughly comforted and more than a little disappointed. While you are certainly relieved that Rose is not only understanding but apparently willing, you wanted to make a grand gesture of commitment and trust. Instead you are apparently "vanilla." It's more than a little disheartening. Apparently you worked yourself into this absurd anxious paranoia for absolutely nothing. 

"I see." You are not entirely confident that she does see, but you do believe that she is making the effort. "Well. I am very honored that you consider me worthy of such a risky and committed act. I would be happy to participate. From either side of course." 

Even though you know now that it isn't so much of a commitment for humans as it is for trolls, you are still more than a little touched that she would surrender control to you in this way. You can't help but think of it as just as much of a commitment to her as it is to you. Regardless of how her society sees - troll up Kanaya, say it - bondage, she is still offering to put her safety and her life in your hands. And she did say that bondage was an aspect of a _committed_ romantic relationship. You can't delude yourself into thinking that it means nothing. 

You finally feel comfortable enough to smile. You turn your head to look at her and see that she is smiling too and it sends a bolt of warmth to your bloodpusher. Maybe no aspect of this evening has turned out quite how you wanted it to, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing. You still feel as committed and as full of pity as you did when you walked into her block. 

"So, Kanaya. Would you like to put this equipment into use now?" She licks her lips uncertainly and it is quite simply the most pitiful thing you have ever seen. No one as poised and thoughtful as Rose should wear an expression like that. You lunge forward from where you are reclining on the platform to grab her wrist. You allow yourself to fall back down, pulling her body inelegantly on top of yours. She shrieks with startlement, but is quick to crawl the rest of the way up your thorax so that her head is level with yours. She rests her chin on her hands, her arms caging your cranial case and a smirk playing across your lips.

"I assume that is a yes. Shall we get started?" 


	2. Chapter 2

You love the way she feels on top of you and the way she smiles. You are going to kiss her until you both forget how to breathe. Her lips are so hot against yours. Your body was already midblood cool and, with the addition of your death and subsequent recovery, you are that much cooler. It feels incredible. You are careful not to snag your fangs as you bite gently at her lips, making her moan softly. You pull your hands from where they had been trapped between your bodies to run them lightly through her hair, so much softer and smoother than your own.

The taste of her is intoxicatingly alien, earthy and metallic in the best possible way. It is a flavor that you know you will never tire of. You could happily lay here exploring the feel and the taste of her mouth probably for the rest of your life, but between the tension and then relief of your earlier conversation and the way that Rose is squirming on top of you it isn't long at all before you can feel your bulge working itself free of its sheath. You are certain that Rose can feel it as well with the way she is pressed against you, but you have gotten over any embarrassment that you would be otherwise inclined to feel in that regard.

Rose responds to the feeling of your bulge emerging with a heady moan and presses her hips down against yours. She shifts so that she can get her hands on your horns and the sensation of her fingertips pressing into their sensitive bases is enough to have your bulge twisting the remainder of the way out.

Rose's god tier robes are not particularly conducive to any sort of skin-on-skin contact, and running your hands over her clothed back is quickly becoming insufficient. Unfortunately to remedy the situation she would have to stand and that is equally unacceptable. You find your hands fluttering uncertainly at her shoulders, unable to decide if you want to pull her closer and be encased in her warmth or if you want to push her away so that you can both remove a few layers.

Fortunately Rose decides for you, climbing off of you and stepping away abruptly. Her face is flushed red and she is breathing hard.

"So, Kanaya. Would you like to…?" She gestures at the equipment still spread out to your side.

You find yourself entirely lost for words, not a common problem for you. Instead of speaking you nod your head.

"Alright. Here." she picks up a length of rope and two leather cuffs and sends everything else clattering onto the floor of the block with a sweep of her arm. She climbs onto the platform and fiddles around with the anterior respite platform wall - headboard, the word is headboard. You breathe.

This is an expression of trust and love and pity. You are about to completely surrender control. You thought that you would be terrified to give yourself over, you thought that the very fabric of your soul would be urging you to change your mind, to run. Instead you wait, entirely ready for whatever your matesprit is preparing for you.

And what she was preparing appears, when she steps away, to be a simple arrangement to hold your wrists. The rope was used to secure the cuffs to the headboard.

"Alright, are you ready? Turn the right way."

You shift so that instead of being perpendicular to the platform you are parallel to it, your head towards the headboard. You are still, unsurprisingly, unassaulted by nerves. You feel absolutely serene. Serene and very aroused.

"I suppose you should probably take your clothes off as well," Rose says, and you can hear the laughter in her voice. "It would be somewhat difficult to proceed otherwise."

You don't think you have ever stripped away your clothing so quickly in your life.

Rose is still entirely clothed as she leans over the respite platform to bind your wrists into the cuffs, but you suspect that this is not a situation that will last. Once you are secured to the headboard, she climbs back off of the platform and steps away from you.

"I will release you at any time if you just say the words. 'Stop', 'let me go', anything like that, alright?"

You nod your agreement, but you are certain that it won't be necessary. Apparently satisfied, she breaks eye contact to look over your sprawled-out form. Your bulge writhes under her gaze and the sight makes her lick her lips thoughtfully. Then she meets your eyes again and her lips spread in a predatory smile.

She closes her eyes, tilts her head back, and sways her hips gently, apparently to a song that you cannot hear. Her hands slide up the long slit of her dress, hiking it up slightly as she hooks her thumbs in the band of her leggings. She continues to sway, but now she meets your eyes as she slides them down excruciatingly slowly. You hear yourself groan with longing, but only the depth of her smirk changes, her pace remaining the same. The challenge of this experiment has quickly proved itself to be different than you expected. Instead of wanting to be free as a result of instinct and cultural expectations, you are instead aching to be able to touch her and ideally hurry her along a little.

She steps smoothly out of the leggings and reaches with unbearable deliberation for the fasteners at the back of her dress, still swaying with that same sensuous motion. You feel like you might implode any second if she doesn’t do something, your bulge twisting on itself almost franticly. You would just go fetch her yourself but you are trapped here on the platform by the cuffs on your wrists and the pity in your bloodpusher and all you can do is ask. And plead. And maybe even beg.

"Rose, please. I… I need you, please come here, please hurry."

Of course she doesn’t. As if she would make it that easy. Instead her hands find the zip at the back of her dress, pulling it down in one smooth, drawn-out motion. You are burning; on fire with the need to get your tethered hands on the skin that she is revealing so tantalizingly slowly. You have never been so turned on in your life and she isn't even touching you. It is the sweetest kind of torture.

You can certainly see what trolls in the right sort of matespritship see in this sort of thing. Your bulge aches and you could sob with the emptiness of your nook, but there is nothing you can do but trust that eventually she will deign to come to you, that she pity you too much to leave you suffering in this way for long. And you do trust her, you know she will come. It still hurts to wait.

From the red blush riding high on her cheeks and the way that you can see her pupils are blown wide even from here you can tell that she is just as impatient as you are. She lets her tunic drop with only a modicum of teasing and all that is left is the hood hanging loose around her neck.

You writhe on the platform, pulling at your bonds until you can feel the strain in your wrists. You are making embarrassingly needy noises that sound like something from a b-list bucket film and you would be embarrassed if you weren't so overwhelmingly desperate for her nook and her fingers. You have never, ever heard of whatever it is she is doing, forcing you to watch and wait, but it is almost enough to make you come without ever being touched.

Fortunately you seem to have finally affected her enough to elicit a real reaction, because she rips off her hood like it personally offended her and practically throws herself at the platform. She straddles you, but not at the hips where you want her, but down around your thighs. She gazes down at you with her lower lip clenched between her teeth and runs her hands slowly up from your hips past your rumblespheres to gently cup your cheeks. She shifts up to her knees so that she can press her lips chastely to yours.

"Kanaya, I think I might use this as an opportunity to teach you some small amount of patience. I rather think that you may be excessively eager."

You were thoroughly robbed of the ability to form words somewhere between Rose dropping her tunic and climbing on top of you, so instead you respond by pressing forcefully up into her kiss. She had been holding herself upright on her hands and knees to keep some space between her nook and your bulge, but at your action she sags and you can almost, _almost_ reach. You gently tug at her lower lip with your fangs and she shudders.

"Nnnn, Kanaya, I think you are forgetting who is -aah- in charge here."

She pulls back to rest at your thighs and you whine needily. You are distantly worried that you are going to do actual damage to Rose's platform with the way you are pulling at your restraints. She really is in charge and it is as glorious as it as agonizing. You want to touch her, but you can't. Burry your fingers in her hair , run your palms up and down her sides, and raise slight ridges along her back with your claws, but you can't. You should feel trapped and vulnerable, but all you feel is overwhelming waves of love and trust and pity that any creature could be so in love with you that she would agree to this.

She wraps one hand around your horn, not rubbing the base where you want her, but instead using it as leverage to pull your head to the side. She slides forward again, somehow supporting all he weight on her knees and the hand gripping your horn.

"Tell me what you want, Kanaya. Use your words. If you don’t tell me what _you_ want I'll _take_ what I want."

She reaches back and gently grabs your bulge with her free hand and you might scream but you don't know, because you are burning up in the best possible way; she is killing you by inches and if this is how you die then you will die happy.

"What do you want, Kanaya, love? Tell me. Say the words and I will let you have whatever you want, just say the words."

But you have no words to say. All you have is endlessly cresting lust and love and pity and the burning helplessness in your wrists and the fiery heat of Rose over you and you want _everything_ but can think of nothing. You can’t say a word about how you want her mouth on your nook and your bulge, or your bulge in her nook, or her fingers, or anything more than distant, teasing heat and the promise of more, but all you can do is gasp what you hope is her name over and over and pray that she does something that you want.

But she doesn't do anything you want; she releases your bulge and pulls herself further up your body until she is crouched over your thorax.

"Maybe if you can't tell me with your words you can tell me in some other way. Do well and I just might return the favor." Her voice is eager and breathless, but with the many distractions dividing your attention you still go not grasp her meaning until shifts further forwards to settle directly over you. She's right, this is a language you can remember how to speak.

At the first brush of your tongue she shudders.

At the second she is forced to press her head against the wall to keep herself upright.

At the third she moans your name.

You quickly lose track, lost in the taste of her and the sounds of her and your bulge is still twisting cold and abandoned between your legs and your nook is so, so empty, but you would wait any amount time for the way she struggles to hold herself vertical under your ministrations and the way that she says your name like it is the name of god.

The angle is not great. You want to grab her hips and pull her down, to have more contact then the dragging of your tongue, but you are tied and helpless and so, so needy. All you can do is continue, arching your spine, tilting just so, giving just the right amount of pressure until she falls apart.

You can tell when she comes because she clenches and freezes and falls silent for the first time in many long minutes, then sags and nearly falls back across your chest. Instead she rolls loose-limbed to the side, half propped up on the headboard. You are both still for a long moment, and as silent as you can be through your gasping breaths.

"Alright. Okay. Your turn."

She is still for another long moment, clearly trying to catch her breath and bring herself under control. You, on the other hand, have nothing left in you. You are limp against Rose's respite platform despite how desperate you are for stimulation. You feel hollow with the combination of loss of control and unsated lust. With all that you have given tonight, with the overwhelming commitment of allowing Rose to bind your wrists to the headboard you would honestly happy if she fell asleep on top of you with the knowledge that you have done so much.

But instead of ending the evening here Rose finally, finally moves. She shifts herself back down to crouch over your thighs. 

"Kanaya. I would like to think that I know what this means to you. And I would like to thank you."

She runs a single finger along your bulge and your vision entirely whites out. She is still moving, but you can't see, can barely think. All that you have is overwhelming lust stemming from all this waiting and the strength of your feelings. It is like drowning in sweet fire or being burned alive by victory.

"Ready?"

You are reasonably sure that all that noise is coming from you, but so distantly that it might as well be another troll entirely. Rose's mouth is as astonishingly hot and wet as it has ever been, but tonight it feels like so much more. It feels like you are floating on an ocean of sensation. You are still blinded by what she is doing. When she speaks it sounds as though her words are coming to you from miles and miles away.

Her tongue sears your nook and her clever fingers tease at your bulge until you feel as though you could die of it, and die happily. She is killing you by inches in the best possible way. You are long past thinking of what you would do, how you would retaliate if you had use of your hands. You finally understand exactly what you committed to when you brought your bag into Rose's block. You committed to being cared for and controlled and _owned_. You are confronted with your love and pity in ways that you have never considered before and your orgasm rolls over you like an avalanche.

When you have finally scraped your pan back together enough to form a coherent thought, Rose has detached your wrists from the cuffs and is rubbing the feeling back into them with an expression of deep consternation. You can tell by the ache that they are bruised, but you are hardly going to complain. When you smile weakly back up at her, her expression quickly fades into something far more composed, but still thoroughly anxious.

"Welcome back to the lad of the conventionally living. How do you feel?"

You might be ready to open your eyes and perhaps think some small amount, but you are certainly not prepared to actually talk. Instead you allow your expression to speak for itself. You are still dizzy with pity and flushed with love and you let your feeling of deep satisfaction show through in your lazy smile and the low purr that is currently gently rattling the platform. Rose sighs with relief.

"I was afraid that I had… that you… well. I am glad. That you are well."

She settles against your side with one leg thrown across yours gently thumbing the base of your horn. You could happily lay like this forever, warm and content and loved.

"Rose."

"Yes, love?"

"Thank you."

"Of course."

You lay silently for another stretch of time. Before Rose asks, "I don't suppose you would like to switch the positions around next time?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter tomorrow or the next day!
> 
> This is based off of somebody's headcanonon on tumblr that, because of how violent and territorial trolls are, bondage would be a super kinky matespritship thing. If anyone knows whose I would love to know either here or on [my tumblr](http://a-bench.tumblr.com).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Rose: Commit 2](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132032) by [fantastimonsy (WithoutAnyRain)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WithoutAnyRain/pseuds/fantastimonsy)




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